Desparate Housewife
by Spanish Sunrise
Summary: In love with Rhett, the jealous India Wilkes will go to extremes to rip him and Scarlett apart. When Scarlett realizes what India is doing she will fight to keep Rhett and realizing by almost loosing him how much he really means to her. Review please.
1. The Fight

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Rhett Butler put on his coat and walked out of his office from the bank of where he worked at. Turning a corner, he ran right smack into India Wilkes.

"Why hello Miss Wilkes." he greeted pleasantly, noticing India's jumpy attitude.

"Captain Butler I have come to inform you about your wife." she said simply, flatly. Rhett frowned, adjusting his jacket.

"Oh?"

"She was seen at the mill today......" she began. Rhett laughed.

"That woman's always at the mill." he replied. India looked awkward.

"Well, it's more than that....." she continued.

"Well what is it?" Rhett asked, beginning to get worried.

"She was seen in the arms of my brother, Ashley Wilkes, she has committed adultery, Captain Butler, she has sinned." India told him. Rhett stopped breathing and kept shaking his head as if he oculdn't believe it.

"No, Scarlett wouldn't do that." he denied. India just shrugged.

"That whore-monger is capable of anything, if you pardon my language." India mumbled. Rhett glared at her.

"Get out of my way!" he snapped, side-stepping her and walking out of the bank. India watched him go. She found the man utterly dashing and attractive. The daring blockade runner. He was so attractive, and she would stop at nothing to have him.

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Rhett Butler handed Pork the reigns to his horse and walked up the gran driveway to his and Scarlett's home, eager, though tired, to see Bonnie and Scarlett. He greeted Mammy who opened the door with a big smile on her cheerful round face. Handing his coat to Prissy he slowly climbed the grand staircase, following the sound of laughter that was coming from the playroom. Quietly, he walked over to it and glazed through the doorway, remaining hidden in the shadows. Inside Scarlett was seated on the floor in a beautiful dark green dress, with his beautiful Bonnie in her lap. She was laughing. For once she wasn't frowning over the mill, for once she was smiling. A warm glow was coming through her eyes, a glow full of love as she watched Bonnie who was showing her her knew kitten. Rhett wished that she would look at him like that. Suddenly, as if sensing someone watching her, she looked up, and frowned.

"Rhett, why are you home so early?" she demanded to know. When Bonnie looked up her face broke into a wide grin, she leaped off of Scarlett's lap and ran over to Rhett, hugging his legs. Rhett grinned back at her.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Bonnie shrieked in delight as he picked her up and through her in the air a few times.

"Oh my dear Bonnie." Rhett smiled lovingly at his daughter. Scarlett looked shocked.

"Rhett!" she scolded."Stop it you might drop her." Rhett put on his usual smirk that he always wore for Scarlett.

"Would your daddy drop you, Bonnie?" he asked, knowing how it vexed Scarlett. Bonnie giggled.

"No daddy, no." she replied."It's alright mommy." she said. Scarlett wasn't convinced.

"Alright then." she muttered, turning away from them. Rhett frowned and put Bonnie down.

"Bonnie baby why don't you go and ask Mammy what we're having dinner?" he told her. Bonnie smiled and ran out of the room, shrieking Mammy's name. Rhett strolled over to Scarlett and cautiously put his hands on her shoulders, turning her around. Her expression shocked him. It was the coldest glare full of hatred that he'd ever seen.

"What is the matter Mrs. Butler?" he asked, puzzled. Scarlett glared some more.

"What do you care?" she snapped, looking away. Rhett put a hand under her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. She looked as if she was on the verge of tears. It scared him, he'd give his world to lift her's up. But he didn't show it. He made his expression mocking and emotionless.

"I'm your husband, my dear, so please, be frank with me." he told her. Tears started trikling down Scarlett's cheeks.

"Oh, it's Ashley!" she sobbed. Rhett's jaw hardened and his eyes turned into ice at the mention of Ashley's name.

"What the hell did he do to you?" he demanded.

"I love him so......" Scarlett sobbed. Rhett felt as if someone slapped him, though he doubted the pain could be any worse.

"I feel sorry for you, my dear....." he growled, making the pet name sound like a curse word.

"Why do you care Rhett? All you ever do is mock me!" she cried. Rhett pulled out a handkerchief and threw it at her.

"Because you're throwing happiness away with both hands!" he shouted angrily."You have a family, a daughter and a husband that need you, and you run around some stupid Ashley that doesn't give a damn about you!" he yelled in her face. Scarlett jumped up.

"Oh no Rhett, you're wrong!" she shouted back,"he does love me. It's better to love him then have a husband who doesn't give a damn about you!" she shouted. Rhett clenched his fists hard, afraid he would loose control and strike her. How could she say that? Or even think it?

"So it's true?" he whispered.

"What's true, Rhett?" she sniffled into his handkerchief.

"What India told me is true!" he shouted. Scarlett turned pale.

"She didn't dare-!"

"Yes she did, sit down!" he shouted.

"Oh Rhett, I don't know how you didn't kill her, spreading lies like that!" she whined. Rhett snorted.

"I have a strange way of not killing people who tell the truth." he muttered, grabbing his coat and walking down the stairs and out the door. Scarlett shrugged. He'll be back.

**Review please, tell me id I should continue, thanks so much.**


	2. Ungrateful

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Rhett was sad, anxious, and lonely, but most of all, angry as he made his way into the bar saloon just bellow Belle Watling's house. His mind, as usual, was on his beloved Scarlett. How he hated that woman. How many times he had wished that little brat dead, since their first meeting at Twelve Oaks. He thought he would forget about her, how surprised he was when he saw her at the ball, dressed from head to toe in that ridiculous black dress. But that annoying pounding in the back of his mind would not leave him alone. That pounding was the bloody truth. And the truth was that he'd die for her. His gut-wrenched and his mind was filled with rage as he bit his lip and balled his hands into tight fists, trying to control his anger. He shoved past the drunken men shouting drink orders at the bartender, and winking at the giggling whores, trying to by them off. Rhett made his way up the stairs and into Belle Watling's home. He knocked twice on the door, and she opened immediately. She looked surprised by the expression on his face.

"Rhett!"

"Good evening, Belle." he murmured, pulling off his hat.

She smiled and stepped away from the door, letting him through."Tough night?" she asks, shutting the door.

Rhett collapses on a plush, red-velvet sofa and buries his face in his hands."It's her again."

Belle's tone turns into one of disgust,"Scarlett?"

Rhett watches her through his fingers."Sometimes she makes me so angry I'm about ready to wring her neck."

"Is it that Ashley business again?" Belle asks knowingly, sympathetically.

"I despise that woman!" Rhett carries on, but stops when he hears Belle's high-pitched chuckle, and suddenly she's standing over him.

"Oh, honey, stop lying to yourself. You're in over your head, hook, line, and sinker." She drawls pleasantly in a Louisiana twang as she massages his tough shoulders.

Rhett says nothing, only sighs, because he knows she's right.

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Scarlett sits son a plush chair in front of her floor-to-ceiling mirror, admiring her reflection in the glass. She looks beautiful as usual, her black hair curled and her green eyes on fire. She thinks about Ashley, giddily as she tries on a pair of ear bobs. She has over fifty pairs, but none which seem right.

She is dressed simply tonight, a long dress with minimal amount of lace, foamy, the color of the sea.

It is one of the nights when the women of the ex-Confederacy got together at Melanie Wilkes's house to embroider and gossip about the men and...their most popular topic...Belle Watling. Scarlett would not have bothered to go, except for to reasons. One, if Melanie had not dragged her to her home each Wednesday night, and two, she was sure that if she didn't go, the most popular gossip topic would be...well...her.

She checked her hair once more before sanding up and retriving her embroidery kit.

Her hand stopped a few inches from the bag, and fell loosely at her side.

It was made of dark green velvet, one that red had brought her from London, during the years of his dashing and romantic image as blockade runner in those long years of the Civil War, when America was in the state of disunion.

It reminded her of Rhett.

She had forgotten how angry he was earlier this evening.

But he knew that she was in love with Ashley.

She had told him countless times.

She shrugged. He'll come around.

But then she sighed. Suppose he didn't.

She pushed the darkening thought out of her pretty head.

No, she wouldn't think about that now, she had a gossip session to go to.

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India glared at Scarlett over her embroidery. She wasn't listening about the latest gossip, useless tidbits about whom married whom and why. Frankly, she didn't care.

Her mind was to busy throwing daggers in Scarlett's direction.

She could not understand how the woman could sit there so calmly, as if nothing had happened.

Scarlett had everything, the world at her feet, two beautiful children, and a handsome, dashing husband.

India had none of that.

But what made her most angry was how ungrateful she was.

How horribly she treats Rhett, dear Rhett, reducing him to such a low level with her adulterous acts.

She wished the woman would die. Just die.

India was in love with Rhett, a secret she would carry to her grave, unless, she could win his affection.

When Scarlett's green glare met her own, India darkened, and looked down.

She did not wnat to loose her eye vision buy looking at the revolting creature.

So she looked down at her embroidery and focused her thoughts on Rhett.

Rhett Butler.

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**Sorry for typos. Too tired to care.**

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